


Smoke and Mirrors

by Orange17



Series: Truck Stop [3]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Life on the Road, POV Wynonna Earp, Poker, Whiskey - Freeform, i give up on tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2019-11-14 10:03:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18050429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orange17/pseuds/Orange17
Summary: So... wanna see more Wynonna and Doc? Yay or nay?A huge thank you to my beta@LuckyWantsToKnowfor all her help and support. This thing would’ve jackknifed long ago without her. You can find me on Twitter,@DubiousOrange17.





	1. Chapter 1

Wynonna flung herself into the passenger seat, kicking her feet up and stretching them out to rest on the dash. Too short to reach, she shuffled lower in her seat, feet flailing through the air until her heels found purchase on the cracked, sunworn plastic.

The truck hit a pothole, jostling her and her daddy. Her feet slid down to the floor, and Ward chuckled as she struggled to kick her feet up again with a huff.

“Your sister asleep?” he asked quietly, eyes still on the road.

“Yep.”

“I’m sorry for doing this to you girls,” he admitted. “I just… don’t know what else to do.”

Wynonna shrugged, settling further into the seat.

“At least you’re with me,” he continued, hands tensing around the steering wheel. “You know, my dad wasn’t ever around…”

He trailed off and Wynonna turned, watching him shake his head. She twisted back, fidgeting again to try and find a comfortable position before staring out the side window at the never ending white line as they drove down at the empty highway.

The cab fell quiet, the only sound the rumble of the engine.

Wynonna tried to count the days since she last saw momma and Willa. She gave up quickly, unable to separate out the monotonous time on the road, an endless cycle of food from greasy brown bags, sitting, napping, and taking care of her sister. But it had to have been at least a week since daddy whisked her and Waverly away from their empty home.

Her legs itched and twitched restlessly from being idle for so long. She missed the fields behind their small house, where she could run endlessly and hide out in a tree or in the barn when everyone else became too much.

There was no hiding here.

Not with her daddy freezing every time Waverly needed something, driving well over the daily limits, talking to himself all hours of the day, and teaching Wynonna how to lie on his log book.

Not with her baby sister constantly needing help. To shower, brush her teeth, and comb her hair.

“We can make it fun,” her father broke the silence, seemingly grasping at straws. “I used to ride around on my grandpappy’s big rig as a kid… and it was the _best_.”

“Isn’t it boring?” Wynonna asked “Just driving all day.”

“It can be some days. But mostly it feels like I’m on top of the world up here, looking down into the cars on the road. And, the last truck I drove, man, maneuvered like a Cadillac. So smooth. It had the best air suspension, felt like riding on a cloud.”

Wynonna’s eyes narrowed, her mind picturing the shiny chrome and blue truck that used to sit in their driveway when daddy was home, so different from the rusty one she was currently seated in.

The truck hit another pothole and Wynonna was launched into the air, ass fully leaving the seat, before coming down hard on the slick, worn leather. She swore she could hear foam creak as it seeped between broken threads.

“Clearly wasn’t this truck,” Wynonna mumbled, shifting to find a comfortable spot.

“No, it’s not,” Ward sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“What happened? With the Cadillac truck?”

Ward took a deep breath, shaking his head in the process, “I screwed up, Wynonna. But I’m gonna fix it. I’ll get that job back and then we’ll go find your momma and Willa.”

Wynonna’s stomach turned. She had never been apart from either of them this long.

“Waverly misses them,” she mumbled, fidgeting with her unbuckled seat belt.

She missed them too. A lot. But she was too old to admit something so silly like she missed her _mom_.

Ward’s tired eyes finally left the road and shifted to Wynonna, “I know, I miss them too, Wynonna. But we’ll all be together again. I promise.”

\--

A few weeks later, Wynonna woke up to a kick in the stomach from her sister. She groaned, shifting to find a comfortable spot even though half of her body was hanging off the edge, only to be kicked again, this time in the shin as Waverly twisted in the sheets.

She huffed and looked longingly through the gap in the curtain in the direction of the passenger seat. Though Wynonna usually slept there, by herself, she was powerless to resist her sister’s teary request to not be alone in the tiny, smaller than a twin-sized, bed.

Turning back, Wynonna reached out, placing a hand on Waverly’s shoulder to gently wake her, but she froze when she realized, in spite of the rumble of the engine, they weren’t moving.

She slowly withdrew her hand, careful not to jostle Waverly as she sat upright. Wynonna pulled back the curtain and scanned the cab, noting the vacant driver’s seat. She carefully maneuvered out of the bed, squinting as she looked first out the passenger window then the driver’s side before finding her father, pacing parallel to the side of the truck. He moved in and out of the sightline of the window, hands deep in his pockets, a sheen of sweat on his forehead illuminated in the flickering street light from the rest stop.

Her stomach flipped as a familiar pale blue station wagon approached, slowing next to the truck, but a large grin stretched across her face when momma stepped out.

She moved quickly, hastily pulling on her shoes before turning to the door. With her hand on the latch, the wind howled and the streetlight above them flickered out. She blinked hurriedly, eyes adjusting to the darkness around them, when the bulb flashed back on, illuminating momma’s open palm striking daddy’s cheek.

Her father stumbled back a step, before catching himself and rocking back on his toes. He closed the distance between them, face turning red. Wynonna held her breath, while the howling wind blocked out whatever words fell from her father’s quickly moving lips.

Ward continued to stride forward, one finger pointing at momma while she stepped back to maintain the distance between them until she was backed against the hood of the car.

Her stomach dropped as daddy pulled his hand back, fingers closing into a fist—

“Wynonna?”

Her sister’s sleepy voice pulled her from her thoughts. She backed away from the door as if it burned her and turned to see through the gap in the curtain Waverly sitting upright in the bed.

“What’s going on? Why are you at the door? Where’s daddy?”

“It’s okay, baby girl,” Wynonna soothed, walking back to her sister. “He’s talking to someone outside.”

“Who?”

Wynonna climbed back into bed, easing Waverly back onto the mattress.

“Dunno… didn’t recognize them… Go back to sleep, we’ll be back on the road soon.”

Luckily her sister settled quickly, drifting off with Mr. Rabbit tucked tightly between her little hands.

Wynonna eased off the bed and pulled the curtain tightly shut behind her as she approached the window again. Her face fell at the achingly familiar glow of tail lights speeding off into the darkness. As they faded from view, she hastily wiped at the tears slipping from her eyes and sniffed.

\--

The weeks turned into years and Wynonna reluctantly fell into the routine of life of the road. Momma and Willa weren’t mentioned again by daddy. And after he jackknifed the truck when Wynonna pointed out Willa’s birthday, Wynonna and Waverly followed along, pretending as if their momma and sister never existed. Although, when daddy was out of earshot Wynonna assured Waverly that they would see momma again, her heart wasn’t in it. And soon enough, her sister stopped asking.

Long after the welt on his cheek faded, Wynonna tread carefully around her father. Though she never had a reason to fear daddy before, his raised fist was seared in her mind’s eye as his patience grew shorter and shorter, his frustration precariously close to boiling over.

In spite of the daily uncertainty over whether or not her sister’s endless curiosity would ignite daddy’s short fuse, without Waverly, Wynonna didn’t think she could do it.

The literal rinse, wash, repeat routine of taking care of her sister kept Wynonna occupied as miles racked up on the truck. But as her sister grew more and more independent, the restless itch grew inside of Wynonna.

Daddy had started teaching her poker not long after they hit the road for this nomad life. And it wasn’t long before they were sneaking out after Waverly fell asleep so Wynonna could spy on opponents’ hands.

Her stomach squirmed guiltily every time her daddy dragged her along but, at the promise of a cut of the winnings to spend on new clothes and books for Waverly, Wynonna’s tune changed. Soon she was the one dragging him to darkened motel rooms, where cigarette and cigar smoke hung in the air, just above the stench of cheap liquor. With her help, more often than not, daddy won the room for the night.

But things changed when, just after Wynonna turned fifteen, a new young man joined the table, quickly becoming a regular.

For the first time, Wynonna couldn’t seem to keep her eyes on the cards. Instead, her vision drifted to his thick mustache, heavy stubble, and long hair usually tucked beneath an old cap that he removed in greeting every time Wynonna stepped into the dingy room the group secured for the night. Though he was younger than the rest of the players, only just qualified to drive big rigs, Henry always seemed to have an endless supply cash in his pockets. Game after game, his blazing blue eyes narrowed when she whispered advice into daddy’s ear.

“Why don’t you join us, Wynonna?” Henry drawled, interrupting an outburst from Wynonna after daddy raised, losing a good chunk of their cash, when she told him to fold. Henry lazily pulling his winnings from the last hand toward him, leaving a few small bills and some coins in the middle and nodding toward them. “See what you can make of that.”

The older men grumbled, but one dealt her in anyway as she pulled a chair to the table instead of lingering at her father’s shoulder. She left that night with more cash in her pockets than daddy did, even with paying Henry back what he lent her to start.

\--

Wynonna hopped onto the diamond-plated steel step and pounded on the driver’s door. She stepped down before shoving hands deep into the pockets of her second-hand jacket.

The door opened, a cloud of smoke escaping into the darkened sky.

“Wy-no-nna Eaaarp,” Henry drawled leaning out the door to his truck, a cigarillo held loosely between his lips. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She looked down, eyeing the spotless step before lifting her gaze again.

“No game tonight so I was bored, I guess,” she paused, biting her lip. “Can I come in?”

\--

The radio played softly in the background while they smoked and shared a bottle of whiskey on the bed in the cab of Henry’s truck.

With the whiskey warm in her stomach, her attention narrowed on an object that had held her infatuation even in a more sober mindset. With her back on the soft blue sheets, she reached out toward Henry sitting slouched over aside of her, her fingers curling in his mustache.

“The fuck,” she mumbled, pulling on it slightly.

“Yes?”

“How _the fuck_ do you have such thick and full grown facial hair for a twenty-year-old?” she slurred, giving his mustache a slight tug again, expecting it to fall off.

He chuckled softly, “Want to know my secret?”

“If you tell me you’re Santa Claus then I’m out.”

He shook his head, gently removing her hands before slipping off the bed. He dug around a cabinet behind the passenger seat and turned back with a box of Rogaine, shaking it sheepishly.

Wynonna sat up, her head spinning at the quick movement, “You’re bald?! Wait is the rug on top not real? Let me pull on that too.”

Henry chuckled again, before running a hand through his long greasy hair, “All real, Wynonna I swear. I simply use this on my face. Think of it like fertilizer on a plant.”

Wynonna hummed, lifting the whiskey bottle to her lips. Her eyes scanned through the cab.

“Shit this is nice,” she admitted, her empty hand gesturing around her. “What year is it?”

“Her,” Henry corrected.

“Don’t tell me you’ve named your truck,” Wynonna rolled her eyes.

Henry smiled shyly and shrugged, “I may have. Wynonna, meet Charlene.”

“Nice to meet you, ya fine broad,” Wynonna smirked, twisting as she spoke to the cab at large. “Okay, what year is _Charlene_?”

“2004. Brand new this year. She has all the bells and whistles one could need.”

Wynonna stiffened, eyes narrowing, “You do the same type of runs my dad does, right? Same hauls?”

“Yep.”

“How the fuck do you afford a brand new fucking truck? We’re scraping pennies up just to keep ours running.”

Henry laughed again, “See, making it to your destination _on time_ pays a bit better Wynonna. Though your daddy has been getting a little bit better with that of late, he’s still missing the mark.”

Wynonna licked her lips, enjoying the lingering whiskey as she scanned the interior of the cab again, “You drive for yourself, right Henry?”

The young man’s chest puffed out, “Why yes I do. No more giving a cut to Mr. Bossman for me.”

“You know why daddy’s been doing better?”

He shrugged, settling on the edge of the bed again and pushing his hair out of his face.

 _“I’ve_ been driving when he’s too fucking hungover to get his head out of his own ass,” she admitted before lifting the bottle to her lips again.

Henry stared at her for a second, blue eyes narrowing.

Wynonna recognized the look, having seen it across a poker table for months now. She looked blankly back, taking an extra swallow from the bottle while she waited for Henry to realize she wasn’t bluffing. The music continued softly in the background, the air thickening around them.

Henry shook his head and a smirk tugging at his lips, “Color me impressed. Though I should not be surprised that your talents extend beyond poker.”

Wynonna picked at the label on the bottle, “You’re thinking about expanding your operation too, right? I heard you talking to Carl and Shorty the other night.”

He lazily ran a hand through his mustache, then grabbed the bottle, taking a long, slow swig before he offered it back to her and answered, “That is my intent. I would like to add on two drivers within the next year.”

Wynonna bit the inside of her cheek, mind flashing between the anger daddy had each night after she took home more cash than he did and bottles breaking against the windshield while Waverly hid on her bed. Waverly who didn’t need her help anymore. Instead, Wynonna was just igniting daddy’s rage and making everything… worse for Waverly.

She rolled her lips in before taking a long swallow of liquid courage. Her hands shook as she lowered the bottle.

“Do you have an official application, or where do I sign up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... wanna see more Wynonna and Doc? Yay or nay? 
> 
> A huge thank you to my beta [@LuckyWantsToKnow](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) for all her help and support. This thing would’ve jackknifed long ago without her. You can find me on Twitter, [@DubiousOrange17](https://twitter.com/dubiousorange17).


	2. Chapter 2

Wynonna hid a shaky inhale with a cough as she lifted the corner of her cards. She cursed at what was revealed, angrily allowing the cards to fall back to the table.

To her right, Ward chuckled, “I guess you fold, eh honey?”

“Ha, ha.” Wynonna reached across her father, stealing his bottle of whiskey.

She took a long pull from the bottle, rolling her eyes in John Henry’s direction before setting it back on the table between Ward and herself.

“About time your beginner’s luck ran out,” Ward replied smugly, throwing some cash from his unusually large stack, into the middle of the table.

Doc idly raised, ignoring the daggers Wynonna knew she was sending his way.

 _So much for our plan,_ Wynonna thought as most of the table folded, only daddy matching the bet. She cursed to herself as Doc revealed a winning hand, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face as he pulled the money closer.

By the end of the night, Wynonna was fuming. She slammed the door to the motel room behind her, blocking out the sound of the giggling, blonde “prize” seated on her daddy’s lap. After spending the last few hours in the overcrowded, stuffy, and smokey room, the chill in the air sobered her. She scanned the parking lot before finding the source of her aggravation.

With quick strides, Wynonna charged toward Doc, standing at the base of a streetlight, blowing smoke into the midnight sky. Huffing, she pulled the cigarillo from his lips and tossed it behind her.

“What are you playing at, huh? Didn’t we have a plan? To LOSE.”

Doc’s eyes narrowed, “Beg pardon, I believe we did.”

“ _Barely_. This could’ve all went to shit if you won another couple bucks.”

“What did you expect?” he growled. “Me to fold on every other hand like you? C’mon Wynonna, not a soul would have believed that.”

Wynonna pursed her lips and rolled her eyes.

“I dare say I am proud of the restraint you displayed,” he smirked. “What did you have, at least two straight flushes?”

“A royal one too,” Wynonna muttered before turning away. “Of all fucking nights.”

Her eyes found her father’s truck. It was just a dark speck within the rows of 18-wheelers on the far side of the parking lot, but she would recognize it anywhere.

“You ready?”

Wynonna swallowed the lump in her throat. “In a minute.”

She ambled across the parking lot, the distance between herself and the truck only seeming to grow though she continued to put one foot in front of the other.

As wrong as it felt to leave her sister behind, here on the outskirts of a city on the east coast, she trudged forward, knowing Waverly was safer without Wynonna around, riling daddy up by beating him at cards, without her forcing him to stick to a schedule, without her stealing pulls of his whiskey.

 _And she doesn’t need you anymore,_ Wynonna reminded herself.

Her sister was now independent and able to care for herself, and Wynonna was acutely aware that Waverly was better off without her. And always would be.

Wynonna pushed aside the selfish thought that she would _never_ be better off without her baby sister.

_It’s about what’s best for Waverly._

Wynonna sniffed, then grimaced at the residue on her hand after she hastily swiped at her nose. She fought the tears that filled her eyes when she finally reached the truck. The door groaned as she opened it, and she quietly stepped inside. She took one last look around, eyes moving from at the sun-beaten and cracked dash, to the fraying passenger seat, before lingering on the empty whiskey bottles scattered around the floor.

Through the gap in the curtains, Wynonna watched as her sister slept, a tattered Mr. Rabbit in her grasp. With the engine quiet and the still night around them, the soft, rhythmic sound of Waverly’s breathing helped settle Wynonna’s own anxious, racing pulse.

With a slow inhale of her own, Wynonna quietly pulled the curtain back. Though her sister didn’t stir, Wynonna found herself hoping Waverly would wake. She shook her head, pushing the thought aside.

_It’s better this way._

On her final scan of the sleeper, Wynonna eyed the book at Waverly’s side. She smiled, assuming her sister fell asleep while reading. But her throat thickened as she remembered teaching Waverly to read on that very same mattress.

Rolling her lips in, she dug her hand into the back pocket of her jeans, pulling out her little wad of cash. She tucked a bill into the jacket of the book, then a pocket of Waverly’s coat, and more into her sister’s few possessions until she was left with just enough for some food and to buy her way into a game tomorrow night.

Shoving the last of her cash back in her jeans, Wynonna leaned closer. She gently adjusted the blanket, pulling it higher where it must have slipped and moved in Waverly’s sleep. With a peck to her sister’s forehead, Wynonna turned, wiping at her eyes before she left the truck one last time.

“Bye baby girl.”

\--

Wynonna huffed as her hands curled around the steering wheel. It was slick from 200,000 miles of greasy hands and sunshine beating through the windshield.

“Why do I have to get my driver’s license?” she moaned, turning to look at Henry in the passenger seat.

“I believe it is required to, legally, drive a motor vehicle.”

Wynonna huffed again, “And since when are you a law-abiding citizen? Aren’t you going to be paying me under the table for all this delivery shit that I shouldn’t be doing anyway?”

“Indeed, but then it makes it… _less_ illegal. And a much cheaper problem to deal with in the event you are pulled over.”

Wynonna rolled her eyes, hands twisting on the wheel. Her eyes darted to the rearview mirror, fixating on those terrible, scuffed orange pylons. She blinked, shaking her head at the mirror, not used to such a luxury. It almost felt like cheating. _Almost_.

“How is it,” she began, “that I can back up a goddamn 18-wheeler with _precision_ but can’t parallel park a fucking coupe?”

Doc chuckled, “You know, most people have the opposite problem. They cannot wrap their mind around steering opposite to back up a trailer.”

“Fuck most people,” Wynonna rolled her eyes, hands tightening on the wheel.

Doc casually lit a cigarette, taking a long pull before blowing smoke out the open window.

Wynonna eyed the cones again, muttering to herself as she twisted the key. The engine sputtered, and she let the key turn back on its own before trying again. It took three tries before it caught, rumbling to life as if there was no issue.

“Couldn’t have gotten a better car for me to practice with?”

Doc idly blew more smoke out the window before replying, “Show me that you will not hit things and I will consider it.”

“Oh. Ha-ha. _Fine_.”

She stalled by adjusting the right side mirror. Again.

 _This is temporary_ , she tried to remind herself. A means to an end until she was old enough to drive a truck of her own.

With a deep breath and her foot firmly on the brake, Wynonna shifted the car into reverse before twisting in her seat, hand sliding to 6 o’clock. Eyes narrowed, she focused the space between the pylons once more before easing off the brake and turning to the left. She slowly lowered her foot on the gas pedal, cursing as the car went left too.

“Fuck.”

\--

Wynonna’s jaw dropped as she looked around the parking lot, trucks as far as her eyes could see. Shiny new ones with extra-large sleepers, rusted out ones that looked all too familiar to the one she grew up in, and everything in-between.

“Mind if we take a look around?” Doc drawled.

“Not at all,” the salesman answered eagerly. “All the Peterbilt and Kenworth models we discussed are open. I’ll be in the office if you have any questions.

After he turned away, Doc led her to the row of brand new trucks. In spite of the bright sun bouncing off of their shiny hoods, Wynonna lowered her sunglasses in disbelief. Scanning from one with a custom, metallic cherry apple red paint job to a menacing Peterbilt, all blacked out except for the highly polished chrome grill.

In the few years since Wynonna first started working for Doc, Henry’s business was flourishing with six, about to be seven, full-time tractor trailer drivers. While she made mundane hauls by herself in her little cargo van, the thought of finally driving her own big rig was what kept her from losing her mind.

And now that moment was here; her new license was literally still warm in her pocket from its recent printing. Doc had suggested they do something to celebrate first, before coming to the dealership, but Wynonna had all but dragged him here, to the lot where she knew he purchased the rest of the trucks in his fleet.

She never imagined her truck would be _brand new_.

Doc reached for the handle of the red truck and opened the door, “Might as well see which one you like best.”

Wynonna spent the better part of an hour getting in and out of every truck in the aisle, before returning to the black one and sitting behind the wheel for a second time.

“Why not start her up?” Doc asked, from outside the open driver’s door, key in hand.

“How’d you get tha—” Wynonna shook her head before snatching it from him. “Nevermind.”

The engine rumbled to life, a smooth purr not unlike Doc’s own truck. It was jarring how easily it roared to life on the first try. Her eyes scanned the gauges that lit up in a cool blue light in front of her. She sputtered when she read the odometer.

_Eight miles._

She narrowed her eyes, trying to remember the mileage on Ward’s truck when she left and struggling to do the math to guess what it would be up to now. Doc interrupted her calculations.

“Is this the one?”

Wynonna turned the key, shutting off the engine before shaking her head.

“It’s too much. Let’s go look at those ones at the back of the lot.”

“Why would you want one of those rusted out things?” Doc replied, horrified by just the idea if the way his mustache seemed to scrunch up to his nose was any indication.

“It’s what I’m used to. I mean, look at all these buttons!” Wynonna gestured around the overcrowded dash, full of gauges and switches. “What do all these even do?”

She punched one at random and jumped as the radio came on, blasting Hank Williams. Swearing, Wynonna leaned forward, unsure which button she’d hit and how to turn it off.

“I dare say that would be the radio,” Doc called over the volume, before Wynonna found the button again. “I imagine you would learn how to navigate such a _new_ technology.”

Wynonna huffed, “Okay bad example. But I’m sure one of those would be a helluva lot cheaper than this.”

“Up front, sure. But what about maintenance costs? And what happens when it breaks down while you are en route, costing both of us time _and_ money?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s nice Henry, but I don’t need your charity.”

“ _Charity_? Since when is it charity to not want someone else to die stranded alongside the road?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, but…” Wynonna trailed off, pushing her hair from her face to buy time.

She killed the engine and slowly scanned the interior. It was nice. Nicer than she thought she could ever do for herself. With the extra large sleeper attached, there was more space than she knew what to do with. But it felt empty.

Her eyes lingered on the sleeper before scanning to the passenger seat.

Though over the years, Doc had subtly, and more recently less subtly, asked her if she wanted to reconnect with her sister, Wynonna lied and said no each and every time. Missing her sister was an ever-present ache, on good days barely noticeable and on her darkest days a pain that knocked the wind from her lungs, but she knew her feelings were selfish. Because Waverly’s life just had to be better without Wynonna holding her back.

But this—her and Doc, could work.

“I have a proposition,” Wynonna stated, abruptly breaking the silence. She swallowed, pushing that ache and that loss as far down as she could. “We drive as a team.”

Face unreadable, Doc hummed in response, before stepping back and closing the door.

“Great, that couldn’t have gone better,” Wynonna muttered to herself while she watched him circle around the front of the truck.

Doc removed his hat before he opened his passenger door and stepped inside. She rolled her eyes at the smirk on his face as he closed the door behind him and settled into the seat.

“A team?” Doc prompted.

“Yes… I mean… if you _wanted_ to.”

Doc fell silent, and Wynonna knew he was waiting for her to elaborate. She sighed, running a shaking hand through her hair and looking out the windshield.

“Traveling on my own… all left to my thoughts and shit, it’s great. Awesome even… but I’d rather, I mean, I’m used to being on the road with people.”

“And you missed me?”

“Nope… but I did miss taking your money in poker.” Wynonna smirked, before slowly admitting, “And just maybe your face. A little.” She pursed her lips before turning to the passenger seat. “So, what do you say?”

Though Doc’s face remained expressionless, Wynonna had played enough card games with him to know it was a guise. So she waited.

“I think it is a _terrible_ idea. But, if that is what you truly want, who am I to say no?” he smirked, blue eyes alight. “Only one condition: we keep Charlene.”

\--

Wynonna grumbled, rubbing fatigue from her eyes as she plopped into the passenger seat.

“Can’t sleep?”

Wynonna shook her head through a yawn, “I never can on this stretch. Goddamn Purgatory.”

It was terrible timing to be making their way through this bleak stretch of highway.

Though they normally didn’t have a problem staying on schedule, they couldn’t seem to catch a break the past few weeks. Between weather, a couple of flat tires, unexpected traffic, and a broken axle on their trailer, nothing seemed to be going their way. And now, of course, they had to make their way through Purgatory.

“God _damn_ Purgatory.”

The frustration in Doc’s tone pulled Wynonna from her thoughts. Her stomach dropped, expecting the worst given their luck and their current location.

“Sup?”

Wynonna watched his tense arms and white knuckles, fighting with the truck as they traveled into the strong wind. She imagined he would’ve run a hand across his forehead to push back his unruly hair if he trusted himself to take one off the wheel.

At his lack of response, she hopped up from her seat and carefully maneuvered behind his to get a better look at the gauges, grumbling when she saw the fuel level falling.

“Wish we could carry on through as planned but, unless we want to run out of gas, we are going to have to stop at the next town.”

\--

“What kind of trucker town doesn’t have a donut shop?” Wynonna whined as Doc shifted into park aside of a fuel pump.

“This one.”

“And that’s why we never stop here.”

Doc only shrugged as he placed his hat atop his head and opened the door, shouldering it hard against the relentless, gritty wind.

Wynonna huffed as she climbed out her own side, the door slamming shut as she let the gusts of wind carry it closed. She took one step toward the gas station convenience store before grimacing and rounding the hood of the truck.

“Do you want coffee? I’m gonna run across the street to that diner.”

“Sure, but make it quick.”

“Yeah, I know, we’re wasting precious seconds.”

Pulling her leather jacket tighter around her, in a futile attempt to block out the chill, Wynonna hurried over to the diner, eyeing the flickering neon lights.

The bell above the door chimed as she walked in. With one glance around the dining room, she strode to the counter. She didn’t even bother to sit, instead standing next to one of the stools while she reached for a menu. As she scanned the breakfast section, Wynonna heard light footsteps click against the linoleum floor, approaching the other side of the counter. 

Eyes still on the menu, she ordered, “Two coffees to go and do you have any do—“

She was cut off by rude hands hastily pulling the menu from in front of her face.

“Hey!”

Eyes narrowed and a pointed lesson in customer service on her lips, Wynonna looked up. But she was met with a face she hadn’t seen in nearly ten years.

“Wynonna?”

“Waverly?”

\--

In shock and numb to the wind, Wynonna hurried across the street. Her body moved on muscle memory, putting one foot in front of the other without any conscious guidance as she made her way back to the gas station, with a to-go cup of coffee in each hand.

Henry already had the truck idling out front when she shifted the cups in her hands to open the door and climb in.

“What the hell took you so long?” Doc snarled, shifting into first gear before Wynonna fully closed the door behind her.

With shaking hands, Wynonna lowered the coffees into the cupholders before plopping into the passenger seat.

Her focus was elsewhere as she looked out the windshield, not noticing that they were miles down the highway before Doc spoke up again.

“Are you okay?” he asked, tone gentle but loud enough to be heard over the wind outside and rumble of the engine. “I daresay you look like you have seen a ghost.”

“I did,” Wynonna mumbled, turning to look out the side window and turning her back to Henry and her mind shifting back to the diner.

_Wynonna slammed her hands against the counter in frustration as her phone buzzed in her pocket. In some ways it was a welcome pull from the shock that coursed through her; not only from finding her sister working in this diner but learning that their goddamn father had abandoned her here._

_“Fuck. Ugh, I’m sorry, I’ve got to go. We’re behind and—”_

_“Oh, of course, you are,” Waverly rolled her eyes. “I shouldn’t be surprised, you reek of whiskey too.”_

_Wynonna lit up at the mention of whiskey, “Ohhh there’s hooch behind that counter isn’t there? Can I—”_

_“No!” Waverly shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “I guess it’s true. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”_

_“ **No**. Goddamnit, I’m not like—I mean, we’re normally—whatever it doesn’t matter.” _

_The insinuation that she was anything like their father made her blood boil. Of all the things she thought may have happened since she left, Wynonna_ **_never_ ** _imagined Ward would’ve deserted Waverly._

_Pushing her feelings aside, Wynonna shook her head before leaning over the counter to press a kiss to her sister’s forehead. “We’ll make this run and then I’m coming back for you. Okay?”_

_Startled by the icy note in the hazel eyes across from her and getting a half-hearted shrug in response from her sister, Wynonna leaned back, her hands wrapping around the coffee cups on the counter._

_The relentless buzzing from her pocket, likely a flood of calls and texts from Henry, drove her to action, a reminder of just how behind schedule they were._

_Swallowing the lump of regret in her throat, Wynonna picked up both coffees, “I’ll be back for you, I promise baby girl. I’m not leaving you in this shit hole of a town… and I can’t believe daddy did.”_

Waverly’s cold and detached nature jarred Wynonna. It was eerily similar to what Wynonna remembered of her father.

For ten years, a question had lingered in her mind: did she make a mistake in leaving her sister with Ward?

And unfortunately, she finally had an answer.

Anger washed over her, kicking away the numbness and shock to finding her sister, on her own, in Purgatory. She gave into the rage, cursing her father.

“Ward left her _there_ ,” Wynonna spat, finally turning to face Henry.

“Beg pardon.”

She shook her head, disbelief in her tone, “Waverly was at that diner. Working. Ward left her in Purgatory in the _middle of the_ **_fucking_ ** _night_ and ran off.”

“I heard a rumor,” Doc admitted, slowly.

“And you didn’t tell me?” Wynonna snarled.

Doc didn’t answer, just downshifted and slowly came to a stop on the shoulder. Once the truck was idling in park, he turned to fully face her, running a hand through his mustache. 

“How many times have I asked if you wanted to check on her?”

“A lot.”

“Indeed.”

The silence was heavy in the air while Doc fumbled for his phone. With a sideways glance, Wynonna could see he was checking on the location of his other drivers.

Wynonna’s skin itched and burned as she stewed, cursing the small confines of the truck.

“What do you want to do?” Doc finally asked. “Shall we turn around?”

Eyes narrowed, Wynonna shook her head.

“We’re finding Ward first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta always deserves more than just a thank you shoutout for all the work and help, but especially for this one—so please give [@LuckyWantsToKnow](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) some love. 
> 
> I hate to say it but, even though I’m leaving the series open for now, I think this might be it for this Truck Stop stuff. If you’ve made this far, sincerely thank you. 
> 
> You can find me on Twitter, [@DubiousOrange17](https://twitter.com/dubiousorange17).


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